Clashing Legends
by Generic Person The Fifth
Summary: This is the story of a trainer who didn't know their place-a trainer who tried to reach the heavens, on wings of thunder. But mortals cannot trifle in the matters of gods. And thus the Hero of Ideals fell to Earth, and the very wings that had carried them became their downfall.
1. Chapter 1: Monochrome Beginning

**Author's Note: Welcome to Clashing Legends. Basically, it's an alternate universe. It's got OCs. Loosely follows the storyline of the black and white games. Keyword back there is loosely. The rating may change later. There will be death-keep that in mind.**

**All criticism is welcomed, constructive or not-I just want this to be good. On that note, here's the first chapter:**

* * *

Chapter One: Monochrome Beginning

_ For millions of years pokémon have existed side by side with people. And, for most of that time, people have harnessed the power of pokémon for their own purposes-whether good or evil, or something in between. Few have ever thought to reach above the powers available for an ordinary trainer. Few have ever called on the powers of the legends and myths that have shaped and governed our world ever since it is formed._

_ However, even these few cannot challenge the power of those they would otherwise consider inferior. The Keiyaku-sha, or Chosen Ones, are chosen, whether they like it or not, by a legendary pokémon. They are offered a deal-a soul for a life. The covenant, once sealed, is eternally binding. The legendary will serve the Keiyaku-sha while they are alive. However, after death, the roles will be reversed, and the trainer will be bound to the legendary. This is how it has been, and how it will always be._

* * *

_ Years ago, the Unova Region was ruled by kings. A thousand years ago, there were two princes. The elder brother was wise and calm. His armor was white as bleach. He sought the truth, with a passion burning as bright as flame._

_ The younger brother was less mature and quite a bit more hotheaded than his sibling. He preferred to wear armor as black as pitch. Intense thunder crashed in his heart, yearning for ideals._

_ The two shared control of a powerful Pokémon. However, they began to fight over what to pursue-truth, or ideals. The pokemon, seeing this, split into two parts. The white Pokémon Reshiram sided with the older brother and truth. The black Pokémon Zekrom sided with ideals, along with the younger brother._

_ For years the two brothers waged war. Unova was divided over which side to ally themselves with-truth or ideals, although truth and ideals do not need to be at war. This continued until Unova was destroyed in fire and lightning._

_ After Unova was rebuilt the royal family no longer had power. However, it has been prophesied that one day the descendants of the kings of Unova will once again command the legendary Pokémon. On the day that Reshiram and Zekrom reawaken-the prophesied Day of the Palace-the King and the Angel will both fall, and a hero will rise. The hero will defeat Arceus Himself, and the Child of the Beautiful Night will fulfill her destiny._

* * *

_Sammich_

The early sunlight shines in my eyes as I pull myself out of bed, slamming the alarm clock on my stand. The alarm switches to a radio broadcast of a championship battle.

"And Alder sends out Bouffalant! The challenger still seems confident, but Emboar is low on health and he knows it! Both sides are down to two pokémon! This is where-"

The radio goes to static. I look at the door to my room, where Nora is standing, holding a remote. "Sammich," I hear her say, "The professor wants you at the lab by 9:45! Now would be a good time to get up."

I begrudgingly turn my alarm clock towards me so I can see its red LED display. 9:15 AM. I let out a groan and my bones crack as I slowly get out of my warm and soft queen-sizes bed. As I look at the rising sun through the large skyward window, flocks of Pidove flew by the window and spook me, causing me to tumble back, fall backwards, and bang my head on the sharp edge of my wooden desk.

As I get up, I feel a dull pain in the back of my head. Great, I probably have a concussion now. Perfect way to start your journey as a trainer, am I right?

That's not even the worst of it, either. As I rub the back of my head to check for bleeding I heard an unfamiliar voice echo in my mind.

'_This is the day, and you will change forever._'

Well, that's not good. I'm hearing things. I decide that I'm probably mildly concussed at the very least and go to take a shower.

After a shower that I meant to last three minutes, which actually ends up being around ten because I drift off into my own thoughts for a while, I make it back to my room to get dressed. A few minutes later and I am ready, wearing a yellow zip up hoodie, black jeans, and a pair of hot pink Converse.

I look in the mirror. My strawberry blond hair is neatly combed, my hazel eyes look brighter than ever, and my fashion sense is cool, as always. Perfect.

I head downstairs. The hardwood table is welcoming as usual. I sit down and look at the TV, which is broadcasting a rerun of an old Unova Championship Challenge. The challenger's named Hilbert Black, and he's got a powerful-looking Emboar on his side, but he's completely outclassed by Alder's Volcarona. I see the look of desperation on his face as his ace is demolished by a well-executed Hyper Beam. I can't help but pity the poor kid. He's come so far-through the gyms, through the entire region, hell, he's even beaten the Elite Four-and now his dreams are ending in one battle.

"Sammich, stop staring at the TV like that. You're scaring me a little."

"Sorry about that, Nora. Just thinking about my journey, y'know?"

Nora gives me a knowing smile. "Don't worry about that, Sammich!" she ruffles my hair. And I'd had it perfectly combed, too. Relax. Trust me, you'll do fine. Remember, pick the water starter, 'cause if you pick Snivy you're screwed unless you're Cheren or something, and afterwards invite your friends over here so I can watch you kick that tacky Miyako chick into next week. Who the hell has a waist-length braid, anyway?"

"I'm sure it has cultural significance," I mutter into the table.

"Whatever. Eat your Mincinn'Os." Nora punches me in a way I guess was supposed to be friendly but actually stings like hell and slides my bowl of Unova's favorite cereal across the to me. Screw pokémon training, I still haven't collected all five normal type marshmallows!

I try to enjoy my (admittedly delicious) breakfast, but all I can think of is my journey. If all goes as planned I should return home in a year or so with some shiny new gym badges and a ton of pokémon. Everyone I know has something to say about it, but none of them agree. Nora says that as long as you have a brain (as opposed to a Tangela inside your skull?) you'll do just fine. Hilda's parents always say that it's a learning experience. Cheren told me that the mortality rate among trainers aged thirteen to seventeen was only fifteen percent. I'm not sure if he was trying to reassure me or just trying to make sure that no one doubted his ability to memorize vaguely relevant statistics.

After I'm done eating I head towards the door. Going through the normal routine feels different now. It's strange how just putting on an orange blazer can make one so nostalgic. It's not that I don't want to go on my journey-I've been dreaming about today since I was old enough to know about trainers-it's more that I don't want to leave Nuvema Town. I've lived here forever, and I can't really remember living anywhere else. For the last touch, I remove a blue and white checkered fedora from the hat tree that Nora gave me for my birthday last year. The hat fits snugly on my head. I stare in the mirror, one hand on the door, one hand adjusting the hat. Perfect. I open the door slowly, feeling the familiar Nuvema Town breeze on my face.

"Forgetting something?" Nora hands me my official Pokémon League Trainer's Bag, model 8. How could I have forgotten? I take the bag-a standard-issue tool for trainers in the Unova league. It's a basic bag worn over the shoulder, with several pockets for storing different things. Most people use one, although certain people, like two of my friends, use something else. Mine is dark green.

"Thanks, Nora."

"No problem." She smiles sweetly and pushes a strawberry blond lock out of my face. "Make sure to invite everyone over, 'kay? I wanna see you destroy all of them in a pokémon battle!"

I laugh nervously. "Sure thing." I'm going to miss Nora a lot. She's always been there for me. To be honest, I've even started thinking of her as a mom.

And with that I open the door.

Nuvema Town is beautiful this time of year. The leaves are all kinds of red, and the ground is covered with them. During fall Nuvema seems to be in a state of perpetual twilight and I, for one, find that relaxing. I wonder if the rest of Unova is this beautiful. I doubt it.

"Hello? Sammich? Why are you just staring off into the distance?" I am startled back to reality by my friend, Cheren Blake, an erudite young man with short blue hair with the ever-present gravity-defying lock assuming a practically vertical position. His eyes are the weirdest shade of grayish-purple, not that you'd know that with all of the sun reflecting off of his glasses.

"Oh, just thinking. You know, that thing you do a lot?" _Smooth, Watts. Really nailed the guy there. You are the sassmaster and no one may question your rule._

"I can accept that. So what starter are you going to pick?" I've never heard Cheren ask a casual question before. Something must be up.

"You're just going to pick whichever one has a type advantage to it, aren't you?"

Cheren laughs. "You got me, Sammich."

"If you must know, I'm choosing Oshawott."

"Good, because I wanted Snivy."

I stare at Cheren like he's insane, which I'm starting to think he is. "Snivy? Why? I've heard it has a type disadvantage to like half the gym leaders!"

He frowns. "Yeah, half, and one gym resists it."

"Why would you do that to yourself? I thought you _wanted _to be the champion."

"I wanted a challenge, I guess, and I figured you'd all pick Oshawott. Oh, we're here. Hi, Bianca. Hi, Hilda." Indeed, we had arrived at the lab. Bianca, a petite young woman with a circular green hat, and Hilda, an extremely tall brunette with an insane amount of hair that she somehow managed to fit under that cap of hers, were waiting for us.

Hilda's the one we owe it to, of course. Pokémon, especially starters, don't come cheap. We're all lucky that for Hilda's birthday her parents decided to enroll all five of us in a starting pokémon trainer crash course-because let's face it, letting you out into the wild with no idea how to survive would be preposterous. Orron tells me that there are a ton of illegal under-thirteens who don't take the course and get killed somewhere along their journey, or just go bankrupt. The present comes with an added responsibility, however-Professor Juniper is having up beta-test her newest invention, Pokédex Model Seven, which is cool.

"Hey, guys! You excited or what?" Bianca can barely keep from jumping up and down.

"Calm down, Bianca. I'm excited too, but you look like you're about to go supernova." Hilda looks, to put it simply, normal. I guess being a trainer won't be too out of her comfort zone, considering she's been trained from birth for this day by her ex-gym-leader parents.

"You should be excited. Not many have the chance to be defeated in battle by the great Orron." I turn around to see yet another familiar face-Orron, most of his face shadowed by his hat. He's leaning against a tree with his arms crossed, undoubtedly trying to be 'cool'. Orron's been trying to act badass for as long as I've known him.

"Good to see you too, Orron," mutters Cheren.

"Wish I could say the same, but after today you won't see any more of me, except my dust. Don't worry-I'll let you guys be gym leaders or something when I'm the champion. I hope that serves as a small comfort to you when you've lost to me. Anyway, whatevs. Where the pokés at?" Orron walks up to the door of the lab and pushes it open. That's just like him-impatient as usual. I guess it's normal for someone to want to get their pokémon as soon as possible.

Unova, and the rest of the world, has had a starting age of thirteen for a standard pokémon license, and older for specialization licenses. It used to be ten, but after a series of accidents and reckless behavior cumulating in the loss of Kanto's champion, who was only twelve, the Pokémon League Board voted unanimously to raise the age. It was like two months before I would have been eligible. Orron is even older than me-he missed qualifying by three days. He's been counting down the days since then.

I look through the door at the interior of the lab. Professor Juniper is sitting at the large white desk in the center of the lab. Next to her is a computer wired to a SmartBoard. The walls are plastered in photographs of different pokémon. Off to the side, a bunch of researchers are typing at Mach 10 into these tiny blue laptops that probably have insane storage capacity and really fast processing speed and whatnot.

Professor Juniper looks up from her paperwork. "Oh, hi guys. Where's Miyako?"

"Why would she be here?" asks Cheren, "Doesn't she already have pokémon?"

"I guess so. I just thought she'd want to see you guys off. Whatever. In that case, come in, guys." See us off? Why would she do that? It's not like any of us are her friends or anything.

I enter the lab, knowing that it's the last door I'll go through as an ordinary civilian. Cheren enters behind me, polishing his glasses. Bianca skip-walks through the door excitedly, and Orron strides through the door confidently after her. Hilda gives her hat one last adjustment and follows him, closing the door after her.

"Okay, y'all," says the professor, "I have a choice for you. We have five starters here, and we also have the results of your trainer aptitude exams. Now, we can do the standard thing and give you a choice, or we can use your results to assign you starters. That'll get rid of picking for type advantages."

Crap. Knowing how I do on tests, I bet I'll get like a Farfetch'd or something. Oh, well. It's not like any of the others will agree. I mean, manipulating the factors in a battle is what Cheren _does, _and I'm pretty sure Hilda knows what she wants in a starter.

"That sounds good to me," says Cheren, putting his glasses back on. I can hear him mentally swearing over his lost advantage.

"Sure," agrees Orron, "If it's based on aptitude, whatever I get's going to own all of you anyway."

"No one starter is inherently superior to any other."

"That's actually not true. Just look at Kanto-no one's going to argue that Venusaur isn't an inherently better starter than Charizard." Cheren's being a smartass as usual.

"Shut up! I love Charizard! Venusaur is-" Orron has always liked large, intimidating pokémon, so him liking Charizard makes sense.

"Shut up, guys. I think assigning starters is a good idea, really. Could help get you into your element," interrupts Hilda. She seems pretty confident she'll get something good.

"Why not? As long as I get a pokémon I'm okay." Bianca isn't any less energetic, of course.

"What about you, Sammich?" asks the professor. "The choice is yours."

Not really. Everyone else has already agreed. I steel myself for the painful reality of whatever terrible starter I get.

"Okay," I say, stepping forward, "Let's do this."

Professor Juniper's facial expression takes on a serious tone. She pulls a small button out of her pocket-it looks like one of the buzzers off of Jeopardy-and presses it. A section of the floor slides aside with the sound of several gears whirring-actually, it sounds more like nails on a chalkboard. Cheren pulls earplugs out of his pockets and inserts them nonchalantly into his ears, Hilda presses her hands to the sides of her head, Orron sticks his fingers in his ears, as do I, Bianca shrieks a little, the research assistants grimace and/or cover their ears and even the professor cringes a little.

A podium made of black and white marble in a checkerboard pattern emerges from the floor. Arranged in a circle on it are five poké balls, as expected. They each have a small sticker on them, as is customary of starters-two fire, two water, one grass. Great-that means there's less of a chance of getting stuck with _Snivy_. I pity the people who choose it-it's so hard to use! For some reason everyone chooses it, though, even though Oshawott and Tepig-yes, even _Tepig_-are better than it.

"Hilda, since it's your birthday, you should go first," suggests Cheren.

"Yeah. Sounds about right." agrees Orron.

"Okay then!" Hilda walks up to the podium and reaches for one of the poké balls with a fire symbol on it.

"Uh-uh," says Professor Juniper, grabbing Hilda's hand before she can touch the poké ball. She grabs the one next to it and tosses it to Hilda, who grabs it, shocked. "Based on your test results we have determined that a fiercely loyal pokémon like Oshawott would be the best match for you." Hilda looks somewhat downcast. She simply nods and returns to the line.

"An extremely energetic pokémon, we have decided that Tepig would be best suited to...Bianca!" Professor Juniper tosses the poké ball to Bianca, who excitedly reaches out to catch it but misses. The ball rolls into the corner and pops open to reveal Tepig, who begins to squeal excitedly. I can see Hilda having a minor nervous breakdown. Bianca scrambles for the poké ball and fumbles with it before picking it up.

"Uh...guys? How do I get the pokémon to go inside the poké ball?" she screams, terrified, as the Tepig snorts. A small blast of fire shoots out of its nostrils, narrowly missing Bianca.

Orron pulls the poké ball out of her hand, and points it at the pokémon. "Like this, Bianca. Tepig, return." A beam of red light shoots out from the poké ball and hits Tepig, absorbing it into the ball's interior. He then stuffs the ball into her bag, wincing. "Arceus Christ, what do you keep in there?"

"Um...stuff," says Bianca, blushing.

"Whatever. As we were saying, we decided that Snivy was most suited to...drumroll please..." a group of researchers, clearly used to the professor's antics, begin to bang their hands on the table, "Snivy!" Orron and I sigh in relief as Cheren accepts the sole grass poké ball.

"Well, I expected it. It's just like Cheren to get the starter that requires the most strategy to not suck!" comments Orron.

"Thank you." Cheren looks the same as he always does, but the slight curve of his lips upwards suggests that he's internally screaming in excitement.

"What about me and Orron?" I ask.

The professor smiles. "Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you two. Now, remember that even giving you these is experimental-part of a collaboration between Kanto-Johto and Unova." No Hoenn then. I sigh. Hoenn has by far the best starters.

"First off, we have Orron's starter, which hails from the Kanto region. Here you go-Charmander!" She tosses the poké ball to Orron, who catches it one-handed.

"And me?" I ask.

The professor smiles. "Don't worry, Sammich. I think you'll like this one."


	2. Chapter 2: Monochrome Trainer

Chapter Two: Monochrome Journey

_Miyako_

I wake up with my back against the cracked wall. Pain is spreading through the back of my head and my back, and my hand and arm sting like hellfire. I was clearly unconscious, but how long was I out for?

I look at my Pokétch screen. 10:00 AM.

As in ten o'clock.

Hm, they probably have their starters by now.

"Aren't you going to see your friends off, Miyako?" My mother is leaning agains the opposing wall, drinking tea and looking really casual for someone who just owned her daughter using some rather cheap moves in a no-holds-barred karate match, probably because that is a causal occurence for our family.

"They're not my friends."

"Well, that's not very nice, is it?" My father looks up from his paperwork.

"Yeah? So?"

"Go see them off, or Arceus help me you will bleed." Sometimes my mother simply stares with calm disapproval, other times her eyes burn with the rage of a thousand extremely pissed off arcanine. Right now she's the second one. I have no idea why she even wants me to see them off.

My mother is a force to be reckoned with-a martial arts master, albeit a terrible excuse for one-not that I'm much better. Her skills as a pokemon trainer are practically nonexistent, but she makes up for it by being the heir to the family dojo-or she would have been. Unfortunately, she had an insanely talented cousin who managed to win the title from her. To be quite honest, I'm pretty sure that's a good thing for me. Whereas my mother is amazing (the rest of my family is legendary), I'm, to put it bluntly, a failure. The whole point of being born into a family of aura users is that you're supposed to be able to use aura. I hate to admit it, but that's just not something I'm capable of doing. I'm pretty sure that I dislocated my wrist the last time I tried to channel pure aura.

"Fine, mother." It's best not to argue with her. She get angry very easily, and if you've never seen her angry you've never known true terror.

"Get going, then! I don't want to see you come home until you have eight badges." Typical her. Not that I was going to come home before I won the league, anyway.

"Don't forget your sword!"

I stare at her. "Isn't it illegal, or at least weird, to carry a sword?"

"No. Trust me. I'm a lawyer. I'd know. It doesn't make sense, but it's perfectly legal." My father is a strange man, to say the least. He's smarter than me, Cheren, Professor Juniper and my mother put together, and of course he had to be a lawyer. I feel like it's affected him somehow-his hair always looks like he forgot to brush it for a week, and none of the stuff he says makes sense if I'm being quite honest.

"Fine." I suppose I can trust my father on matters like this. Honestly, though, carrying a sword is not in the least subtle. Whatever. I grab my sword, a foot-and-a-half long katana that's been passed down through my mother's family for generations. Its name is Suchīruhasu. Many legendary battles were fought-and lost-with this sword. That's right-lost. This absolutely crappy excuse for a blade has shattered no less than twenty-five times in recorded history, and they always reforge it for some reason. It's pathetic that I need this sword to manifest any spiritual ability, but it's even more pathetic given the sword's history.

Quickly, I put on my signature knee-length trench coat, grab my bag, and hightail it out the door. I don't want to know what my mom will do to me if I lose a gym battle. I don't want to know, to be honest. The woods are right in front of me. Perfect.

I jump up into the trees and begin to jump from one to another. Much faster, although with a waist-length braid I do run the risk of it getting tangled in a branch. Not to mention that I could've chosen better footwear than combat boots, and jeans are not the greatest when it comes to flexibility. I also run the risk of my bangs getting blown around, but that's another matter altogether.

I jump out of the trees, my knees bending slightly as my feet crash into the grass. _Imperfect. Not good enough._ Chiasa never would have made a mistake like that.

I rush into the lab at top speed. The others stare at me for whatever reason. _Haven't you ever seen a teenage girl in a trench coat carrying a katana in a sheath on her waist? Geez. _Each of them has a Pokémon standing in front of them. I note in the corner of my mind that two of the starters aren't native to Unova, but I have more important things to worry about than a breach of a long-standing national policy.

"Oh, good to see you, Miyako. I see you're actually planning to go on a journey."

"Was there ever any doubt about it?"

"I thought there wasn't, but when you didn't show up to get your trainer card, I thought maybe..."

I pull my trainer card out of my pocket. "See? I'm already a licensed trainer."

The professor leans in and looks at my card. "Yeah, in Sinnoh and Johto. You'll need a Unova license."

_Dammit._

"I figured you weren't licensed in Unova, so I got you licensed."

`"W-what? Isn't there a test?" I had to undergo all sorts of testing to get my Sinnoh license.

"No. In Unova there is no prior testing process, with the exception of the aptitude test that the others took. You bypassed it, being licensed in another region. Anyways, here you guys go." With that, she handed everyone a card. Mine looked generic enough. It was black. Every trainer in Unova is rated as black, grey, or white, with the darkest colors being reserved for the most promising trainers. Out of view of the others, I dig my fingernails into a small groove in the side of the card and draw out a small, featureless card. Same as Sinnoh. This is the card used to access a trainer's PC account. It has an invisible barcode on it. The other thing needed to access your account is a password. Actually, there is no account under my name yet, at least not in Unova-I will have to sign up for one and then register this card to the account. How tedious. I slide the key back into my license.

"Thank you," I say. Can't go on a journey without a license, can I?

"So is there something you want to give us?" says Orron. Words cannot describe how much I hate that wannabe-coolkid. To be perfectly honest, I would rather slowly dismember myself than spend a day with him.

"As a matter of fact, there is. You will need a few things to accompany you on your journey. First off, you will receive five poké balls. This is because-"

"You can only carry six pokémon with you at a time due to league regulations, so it would be illogical to give you more poké balls than needed to get a full party.". Cheren, of course.

"I see you are well versed in trainer customs, Cheren, but for the sake of the others-"

Sammich raises his hand. "Uh, actually, we went over this in school. They teach it in like, second grade."

"You will also need a town map for navigation purposes, a X-Transceiver and a Pokédex to give you information on the Pokémon of the Unova Region. Supplies issued to you will vary depending on how well you did on the exam." She distributes the supplies, which have been carefully packaged in plastic bags with the Unova League symbol on them-white for Bianca and Orron, grey for Hilda and Sammich, and black for me and Cheren. I'm not going to argue-they don't give out a Pokédex or a town map to everyone where I'm from, and I don't have a X-Transceiver yet, since those are a Unova-only thing.

"Alright! Let's go to my house and battle! Nora said it's okay!" Well, Sammich sure knows where his priorities lie.

"Well, it _would _be helpful to test out my Snivy's power. You're on, Sammich," says Cheren snugly as he adjusts his glasses.

"Sure. Sounds like fun." Hilda says, unusually glumly. I wonder what the hell got into her.

"Um...okay." Bianca seems both excited and terrified.

"Ha! You're all gonna _lose_!" Orron jumps up and down. Hilda doesn't object for some reason, Bianca looks dejected, Sammich rolls his eyes, and Cheren mutters "Tch. Philistine." under his breath as he adjusts his glasses for what's gotta be the tenth time in as many minutes.

"Aren't you gonna come, Miyako?" Sammich asks hopefully.

"I was hoping to...uh...take it easy for a while." _It's not like I'd rather die than be friends with any of you or anything._

"Aw, come on! I'm sure you'd kick all our asses!"

"Hell no! I'd kick that loser's ass any day!" Hilda and Bianca have to restrain Orron, although Hilda still looks apathetic.

"Fine. You asked for it." If Orron wants to get destroyed, that's his choice. I've got three years on them. I can take him, unless maybe he got the Oshawott.

"I guess I'll referee," says Cheren, "although I'd really like to battle someone."

"Then it's decided," says Sammich loudly. "We draw straws to decide who battles who." He holds out his hand, which has six straws sticking out of it. "Unmarked sits out, blue battles blue, red battles red. Let's go."

I reach out my hand to grab a straw, hoping desperately I get an unmarked one. Orron, Cheren, and Bianca also grab straws as Sammich opens the door and we go outside. All things considered, the clearing outside the lab is pretty much an ideal place to battle. It's a circular grassy field surrounded by trees. The ground is pretty flat, but there's a couple of rocks sticking out here and there.

"Hilda? Aren't you going to take one?" asks Sammich.

"Oh, yeah. Sure." She takes one, and Sammich takes the last one.

I look down at my hand. _Please be unmarked, please be unmarked. Damn it._ I pulled red.

Ugh. Battling is the last thing I need to do now, especially when I'm pretty much guaranteed the victory.

"Red, dammit! FML!" I look up in horror to see Orron holding the other red straw.


	3. Chapter 3: Monochrome Rivals

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I'm currently going back and revising. I agree with the feedback, and would like to thank you for your support.**

* * *

Chapter 3: Monochrome Rivals

_Sammich_

This is perfect. Just perfect. No, I mean it. Miyako and Orron battling each other is like a dream come true. Orron might be a bit of a jerk, but even I have to admit that he's one of the best trainers I know. I mean, to be honest, he has every right to be somewhat overconfident.

To be honest, none of us have even seen Miyako battle. We know she has a pokémon, but it might not even be that strong. If you look at actual evidence, Orron and Cheren are the two best trainers I know.

"Alright, Miyako? You look a bit down. You should really get your hair out of your face." Orron is alluding to Miyako's peculiar choice in hairstyle-her bangs completely obscure the right side of her face. She claims she can see through it, but I don't see how she can with hair that jet-black.

"You should stop worrying about my hairdo and start worrying about your career as a pokémon trainer," she replies.

"Whatever. Go! Charmander!" And with that Orron calls his first pokémon. A charmander. I must admit, I was extremely surprised when Professor Juniper offered it to Orron. I can't deny that they make a good team, though.

"Hm, so you're going with a fire type?" Miyako seems pretty apathetic for someone in a trainer battle. "Have to wonder how you managed to get one of those, considering that it's a serious breach of protocol, but oh well. I suppose I'll go with a fire type as well." A wind begins to blow through the grassy field right on cue, tossing Miyako's hair and causing her trench coat to swirl around her like the bottom half of a Darkrai. "Creature born of darkness and fire, dance to the song of the cruel flames of purgatory! Lend me your power and heed my call! Houndour!" Then she threw her poké ball out, but she didn't throw it out in front of her like a normal person. Instead she threw it straight up into the air, like she was praying to some sort of deity that I could never even imagine.

"Wow. Dramatic much?" Orron seems unfazed by the peculiar call. "What makes you think I have time to listen to all that?"

"Sorry," replies Miyako with scorn in her voice, "I guess you Unovans like to keep it short and sweet. I guess it's just that I'm so backwards, but in Sinnoh we like to pay proper respect to the creatures we use to fight."

"Oh my Arceus," says Orron, hanging his head, "You're one of them Plasmas, aren't you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Houndour, use Ember."

"I didn't know Houndour was native to Sinnoh," I mutter to Cheren as Orron's Charmander dodges the streams of flame coming from the Houndour's mouth.

"It is," he replies as he adjusts his glasses yet again, "But it's really rare, so unless you're suggesting our Sinnohan friend has a _lot _of time on her hands that shouldn't explain how she got one. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to refereeing," he says, returning his gaze to the battlefield. I notice a blue straw sticking out of his pocket. _Great, I'm up against the genius. That's just beautiful._

"So, where do you think she go the Houndour?" asks Hilda, looking slightly downcast. I guess she really wanted a fire-type starter, didn't she?

"No idea. Someone probably gave it to her."

"Well, yeah, that would be the obvious thing to say, but I feel like that's not it." She really _does _look sad. I think that's the first time I've ever used that word to describe Hilda.

"Why do you look so sad?"

"What? Me? Sad? Why? We're about to start our journey as pokémon trainers! What is there to be sad about?" Hilda looks like she just took a thunderbolt to the face from a Raichu full of Rare Candies.

"You sure? You look pretty depressed. Didn't you say something about wanting a fire starter?"

"Yeah." I was trying to make her cheer up, but it looks like I've just depressed her more.

"Well, if you want a fire type you can always catch a Darumaka or something. It's not the end of the world."

"I don't think you really understand."

"Huh?" She's making no sense right now. Most people agree that Oshawott is easily the best of the Unova starters, no offense to the others. I can't actually think of anyone who's sincerely _wanted _Bacon on their team.

"You know how my family comes from a long line of gym leaders and whatnot?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well, they expect me to follow in their footsteps." She honestly looks so depressed that I regret ever opening my mouth.

"And? What does that have to do with your starter? If you want to specialize in fire types, why not just catch a ton? There's a ton of non-starter fire types in Unova."

"Because it's your starter! Most people's starters are their partners! You can't just abandon the first pokémon you ever got!"

"Well, look," I say, "You can't change your starter, but you _can _battle with it until you catch a fire type, and then just keep it as a pet."

"But that would be so...mean! I can't do that!"

"I don't get it. Do you want a fire starter or not?"

"I do...and I don't. I guess I can just use Oshawott. Who knows? I might decide I can tolerate a little water in my life." She smiles for the first time in, well, since we got our starters.

"I think Oshawott's a great starter. And now we know that you have a type advantage over Miyako."

"I guess you're right. Speaking of Miyako, she's wiping the floor with Orron right about now."

"I don't know, Orron's putting up a pretty good fight."

"Yeah, but she outlevels him by like, eight levels."

"If you wouldn't mind, could you stop dissing me for a minute and pay attention to the fight? Rude. Oh, and use metal claw."

"Get out of the way, Houndour!" The fire dog from hell manages to do an acrobatic freaking pirouette out of the way. I swear, I have never seen a hellhound quite that nimble before. Or anything that nimble, while we're on the subject.

I've rarely seen Miyako show any emotion at all, so seeing her this into a battle is extremely weird. I swear I can see hellfire radiating from her one visible eye. "Now! Finish it! Bite!"

I can see the shock and disappointment on Orron's face as his Charmander falls to the ground as if in slow motion. The landing looks like it really hurts.

"What...how...no way-"

"Orron's Charmander has fainted! Pokémon Trainer Miyako has defeated Pokémon Trainer Orron!" Cheren turns to me, a familiar glint in his eyes. "I guess that means we're next, huh, Watts? I can't wait to try out everything I've learned."

"Okay. But first...I have an idea."


	4. Chapter 4: Monochrome Nightmare

Chapter 4: Monochrome Nightmare

_Miyako_

"I have an idea."

The moment I hear the words leave Sammich's mouth I instinctively reach to tear at my hair, before remembering that I can't do that. Instead I step on Orron's foot as hard as I can.

"Ow! What the hell, Miyako?" he yells indignantly.

"Oops. Sorry. My bad." I couldn't care less. I don't know what Sammich is planning, but I'm assuming it involves team-building or whatever. At best it could be a battle tournament between the six of us (I have no idea how that would work) and at worst code-names or something.

These idiots. I begin thinking of ways to ditch five of the most annoying teenagers on the face of the Earth.

"So what's your idea, Sammich?" To Cheren's credit, he seems about as annoyed by this as me, although probably for all the wrong reasons. He's talking through gritted teeth while aggressively polishing his glasses with his coat.

"Well, you know how some people nickname their pokémon? A ton of them say that helps make their relationships with their pokémon better!" He releases a Totodile from his poké ball. "For example, meet Marty."

Good Arceus, that's _so_ much worse than I expected.

"That's a good idea! I think I'll call this little guy Wilbur!" I knew Bianca would be all about this idea.

"Seriously, Bianca? You couldn't even name it a pun? I mean, I don't have an idea for a pun to name my starter either, but Tepig? Come _on_! There is _so _much wasted potential there! I mean, come _on_, a fire pig? Wilbur? Really? Try _Inhammable_. _Pignition. Boarning."_

"I don't know, Sammich. I always appreciate literary references." Cheren is being predictable as usual.

"Aw, come on, Cheren. _Please_ don't tell me you're going to name your Snivy Aristotle or something. 'Cause, ya know, I was gonna suggest that you name it Smugleaf."

"_Smugleaf_? Sammich, everyone and their uncle names their Snivy Smugleaf. And Aristotle has nothing to do with literature. I think Wilbur is a good name, either way. It's a reference to a popular work of literature that most people are going to get." Cheren begins polishing his glasses with renewed vigor.

"Well, I agree with both of you," said Hilda, "Puns and literature are both good nickname ideas, depending on the context."

"Whatever. I don't care." For once, Orron and I are on the same page.

"Well, what do you think, Miyako?"

_I hate you, Sammich Watts. You have no idea how much I hate you. You cannot fathom my hatred of all that you stand for. My hatred of you is the very lifeblood that flows through my veins. Some day, somehow, I will see you cast down into the Distortion World, and I will stand and laugh as your eternal punishment begins. I hate you almost as much as-_

"Miyako, you there? Hello?" Sammich begins to wave his hand in front of my face.

I smack his hand down. "_Don't_."

"Well, what do you think?" To my great disgust, Sammich doesn't seem in the least offended.

"About what?"

"Bianca's nickname."

"I don't care, although out of all the Tepig nicknames I've heard I have a particular fondness for Hammibal Lector."

"I figured you would. So what're you naming your Houndour?"

"Naming...Houndour? N-no, I never agreed to that!"

"I'll pay you ten thousand pokédollars!"

"You don't _have _ten thousand pokédollars. I don't think my mom has ten thousand pokédollars."

"So I'll owe you. How about...hmm. Oh, I've got it! I'll leave you alone whenever you ask me to, _and _pay you, uh, whatever ten thousand divided by eight pokédollars is after every gym badge you earn, how about that?"

"Seems promising. Do you really want me to nickname my Houndour that badly?"

"Yes." Sammich looks so genuine right now. I really want to punch him. But then again, the offer is...tempting.

"Fine. I'll expect my first payment after I sweep the Striaton City gym. Goodbye."

"You're leaving already?" asks Cheren.

"Yeah. No reason to stay." And with that I turn around and walk away.

As I leave the area in front of the lab I think I hear Sammich saying "Dile! Totodile! Totodile!" I briefly look back at the clearing to see him leaning over Marty.

"Sammich...what're you..." Cheren seems extremely confused, which is a rather valid reaction, given the circumstances.

"I guess he's trying to...bond with Marty or something?"

"Nonsense, Hilda. He's been driven insane by my sheer awesomeness."

"That deifies logic, Orron."

I've never seen poké-speech in action before, but I am assuming this is not what it's like. Besides, Sammich? A Keiyaku-sha? I'll believe that when Numel fly.

Once I'm out of view of the others, I take off my glove, just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. After all, Professor Juniper may well have been right. If my mother knocked me into a wall so hard it caused short-term amnesia, it could have caused hallucinations as well. At least, I think so. I don't make any claims to any sort of medicinal knowledge, unless pressure points count.

When I look at my hand, my worst fears are realized. I wasn't hallucinating. It's back. The mark I saw seared into my skin is still there. A black crescent moon, surrounded by a large black circle with a black waning gibbous inside it. I know that mark.

"Hello, Miyako." The voice that I know so well reverberates through my head. My demon is here.

"I see you've noticed the mark on your hand is back. Are you still scared, Miyako? Certainly, that would be the logical reaction, unfortunately. I would like for you to accept me, instead of fearing me as...what did you call me? A demon? Shame, Miyako. I thought that, being old friends and all, we could learn to accept each other, but instead you choose to fear me. I assure you, Miyako, you have nothing to fear but your own fears, and how you let them define you. Now, if you were to forget your fears and move on, we could really go places." A young woman, looking about fifteen, with a black trench coat that falls around her feet materializes in front of me. Her white hair swirls around her shoulders. Her baby blue eyes stare into my grey eye, as if they're trying to read my very soul. She could only be described as a demon.

My demon.

My muscles tense up. I can't move. The presence of my demon is crushing me.

I somehow manage to choke out the words. "I'm not scared of you, demon."

"If only that was true, Miyako." She says my name as though it is poison. "I'm sorry, but I thought we agreed we weren't going to lie to each other."

The pressure increases. I fall to my knees, no longer able to stand. The moment my hand touches the ground, everything around me erupts in flame.

I look up through the relentless blaze. What I see only serves to horrify me further. My hand still has the symbol, but it is not my hand. I look down. A tattered white kimono, probably dirt cheap. My body looks young-it couldn't be older than five.

"Thank you," I hear the voice of my demon behind me, "Thanks to you, I am finally free! I won't forget this." The ground underneath my feet opens up and I fall. It seems like I fall for an eternity and less than an instant at the same time. Finally I land on a gurney. Quickly, I try to get up, but to no avail-my body is covered in thick black chains. And then I see his face.

A man. No, the same man. The one who's haunted my dreams for so long.

"I honestly can't believe you're the chosen one. And yet, you chose to save that demon!"

The young girl answers him. "She's...a demon? Then what does that make me?"

"You fool! You are an angel!"

"An...angel?"

"Yes!"

"If I am an angel, then it is my job to save. It is my job to banish evil. I may save those whom I deem worthy, and punish the guilty. She was worthy."

"Then save me, you supposed angel!" I can see the insanity in his eyes. "Bring me to a world where I can be free of my curse! Make me a god!"

"I'm sorry," the girl answers nonchalantly, "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"You have committed many sins agains creation, and you have defiled the natural order. You are not worthy of salvation."

"You fool! You will pay for your crimes!" The world turns icy blue, rushing towards me. My entire body lifts. All of a sudden, I'm myself again, and I'm running down a long hallway. I can't control my limbs. Chains and wooden planks reach out of the floor. I want to move, but I can't, and panic begins to take hold of me, and I struggle against the chains binding me to the crucifix, although I know it won't accomplish anything. And then she's there. My demon. She takes a hold of my bangs and begins to lift them slowly.

"Well, child of the beautiful night, let's take a look at your face."

"No! Get out of my head!"

"Call me by my name, Miyako."

"Fine...Darkrai."

She frowns, clearly disappointed. "No. That's the name that you humans gave me. I have another name, you know." I stare at her blankly. "You know it. I've told you before, Miyako. You can surely find it in yourself to remember."

"Your name...is Mika."

I'm on the ground outside of my house, and my demon is standing in front of me.

"Ugh, fine. I wish for once you'd let me have my fun, Miyako. You win...this time. Remember, call me if there's any trouble. I promise I'll hurt your enemies more than I hurt you." She turns into a small black stone with a circle outlined in white on it. I pick up the stone, pocket it, and begin my walk towards Accumula Town, and my destiny.

_The child of the beautiful night, on wings of nightmarish terror take flight._


	5. Chapter 5: Monochrome Battles

Chapter 5: Monochrome Battles

_Sammich_

"So you're my new trainer, huh?" asks Marty. Wait, what? Marty? No way. Pokémon can't talk, no matter how much I wish they could.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!"

"You're talking to me? Who is?"

"Me, you idiot! It's me, whatever you called me, Morty."

"Marty. Is it okay if I call you that." Oh, dear Arceus. Am I seriously worried about if I offended a pokémon by _nicknaming it _of all things?

"Well, yeah. Preferable, actually. You humans are lucky that you have names from birth, anyway. How'd you like it if I called you 'Human' all the time? Not at all, probably. Anyways, I'm Marty, I guess."

"Cool. I'm Sammich." I honestly can't think of anything else to say.

"That's a weird name. Why are you named that?"

"It has to do with an accident that happened years ago. Pretty lame excuse for an accident if I do say so myself."

"Oh. Kay. That makes sense." Marty gives me a thumbs up. I never even imagined that I would be given a thumbs up by a Totodile. Hell, I never even thought they were capable of moving their fingers.

"Sammich? Are you okay? Why are you doing that?" Cheren is beginning to look genuinely worried. I wonder why.

"What do you mean? Am I not allowed to talk to my pokémon?"

"Well, yeah, I guess you are, but why are you talking to him like that?"

"What do you mean?"

Cheren adjusts his glasses. "You act like you can understand him. Also, couldn't you speak, I dunno...a language?"

"What do you mean?" I have a sinking feeling I know.

"Um...you were yelling 'Totodile', and, I guess, different parts of the word 'Totodile'. It was a good imitation of the way that pokémon actually talk, to be fair. But still, the question stands-what were you doing?"

_Crap. Gotta come up with an excuse_. "I was...uh...trying to put myself in Marty's shoes. Yeah...that's it. So, wanna battle?" _Smooth, Watts. Totally nailed it._

"O...kay. Sure. Um. Yeah. Hilda, you wanna referee?" Cheren's face was completely blank with confusion.

"...Sure." Hilda seemed as confused as Cheren. "Um...battle start?"

"Alright! Go Marty!" I yell, beckoning Marty forward.

"Go! Salazar!" Cheren lobs a poké ball as hard as he can towards Marty. Even with all of the effort he puts into the throw, it barely goes two feet. It pops open to reveal Cheren's starter, a Snivy apparently called Salazar.

"I didn't know you were going to nickname your pokémon," I say. Cheren rarely does anything with the rest of us.

"I wasn't going to, but then I figured, why not, right?"

"Because Salazar is a terrible name. You must be really low on creativity." Beautiful. I can hear other pokémon too. This is just great. Just what I need-increased probability to do a random Patrat imitation.

"Besides," Cheren continues, "You should be focusing on the battle. Neither of us have battled before, and I have the type advantage. You may want to watch out. Oh well, you snooze you loose. Now! Salazar, use Vine Whip!"

"Ugh. Fine." Salazar runs at Marty, extending vines from behind his head.

"No! Marty, dodge it and use scratch!"

"Sure thing, boss." Marty moves much faster than I ever thought a Totodile could move (I guess what I can take away from this is that a lot of pokémon are a lot faster and more agile than you'd think), dodging the vines with apparent ease and slamming into Salazar, knocking him to the ground as he scratches at his face.

"Follow it up with bite!" Marty digs his teeth into Salazar, who howls in pain. Hilda flinches and Bianca covers her ears, wincing.

"That looks a little painful, doesn't it?" asks Hilda.

"Yeah, no kidding!" chokes out Salazar. "I'm frickin dying over here!"

"Use Vine Whip to throw it off of you!" Yells Cheren. His eyes betray his desperation. Cheren may seem a bit cold at times, but he clearly can't stand to see his partner in pain.

"Thought you'd never ask." Salazar throws Marty five meters into the air, give or take a couple of centimeters.

'Hit it with a vine whip again! Don't let it get onto its feet!"

Marty falls like a stone.

"Use scratch as you fall!"

Marty raises his arm to scratch, but Salazar is too quick. Just before Marty can hit the ground, Salazar uses his vines to throw him right back into the air.

"Ow! Um, Mossdeep, we have a problem! Major Tom to ground control! Are you even listening?"

"Use bite to grab the vines as you fall down!"

Cheren looks a bit intimidated. "Damn. That's really smart. Salazar, let it fall!"

But it was too late. Salazar has already begun to use the move. As the vines hit Marty, he digs in with his teeth.

"Throw him!" yells Cheren. Salazar whips the vine forwards, and Marty sails right over my head into a tree. I turn around as quickly as I can.

"Marty! Are you okay?"

"Marty looks unconscious, to be honest," says Cheren, affirming my suspicions.

"Okay, then. Marty is unable to battle! Pokémon Trainer Cheren has defeated Pokémon Trainer Sammich!"

"Good match, Sammich. You had me worried there for a while."

"Same." Cheren and I shake hands, but in there's only one thing going through my mind right now-the fact that I lost. Maybe my journey isn't going to turn out well. Not everyone can be champion, right? But then again, at least I have a cool partner like Marty. Who knows-this could turn out pretty well after all!


	6. Chapter 6: Monochrome Prophecy

**Author's Note: Sammich and Miyako aren't supposed to know about everything, but I still want the readers to know something, so sometimes people who aren't the main characters will narrate. This is one such case. Sorry about the short chapter, anyway.**

* * *

Chapter 6: Monochrome Prophecy

_Somewhere far away_

"Ki-ah!" Kazumi runs at me, swinging her bō in a horizontal circle. Just before she hits me over the head I manage to block it with my forearm. I won't deny that it stings like hell, though. Quickly, I retaliate by slamming her in the face with my nunchaku. A tiny trickle of blood comes out of her nose. Not one to be deterred, Kazumi yells again as she rushes at me, channeling her full power into the bō, which begins to glow orange with her energy. She swipes at me to the left, thinking that I could fall for it. All of a sudden, she switches the direction of her swing.

A feint. How predictable. I smack her in the face with a palm-heel strike. Kazumi is knocked over by the impact. She lets out a small groan as she lands on the long dark green grass, which I don't think anyone has bothered to trim in years.

"Cheater! You're using your special power again, aren't you?" she yells indignantly, not even bothering to get up before making the admittedly true accusation.

I hold out my hand, and she takes it. "Look, Kazumi, it's not something I can control or anything. Seeing all of time and space unfold doesn't come with an on/off switch."

"It's still unfair! How come you get to be lady-soothsayer-woman?" Typical Kazumi, not paying attention to redundancy. I toss her a bottle of water, grab one myself, and sit down on the grassy hill.

"Why don't you complain about your lack of unique powers when _you_ have a prophecy about you, Kazumi?"

"I dunno. Couldn't Miyako be the Chosen One? I mean, all the prophecy says about skills is that they're a powerful trainer chosen by a powerful legendary, not that they can use aura. And she _is_ part Kuroki, part Hiroshi, just like you are!" Kazumi sits next to me and practically inhales three-quarters of the water bottle, then begins coughing.

"Miyako isn't part Kuroki."

"What do you mean?" Kazumi stops coughing for just long enough to choke out the words, then promptly resumes.

"Takashi was a traitor to the Kuroki clan. He left before his coming-of-age ceremony, and thus never became a true Kuroki. And besides, I can see all of eternity unfold, while she cannot even manifest her aura. That means that she is inferior even to you, Kazumi. I am the only true child of the prophecy."

"Then why'd you send her to Unova? Fire and Lightning sounds a lot like the Legend of the Tao. Wouldn't it make sense for you to go there?"

"Perhaps so, but I think you misunderstood me. You see, Miyako, despite her inherent lack of talent, may have a place in the prophecy."

"You mean-"

"Yes. I want Miyako to awaken Zekrom, so that I can awaken Reshiram in turn, and fulfill the prophecy. It states that a hero of truth and a hero of ideals will meet in battle. She will be the demon and I will be the angel."

"She never _seemed_ idealsy to me."

"Looks can be deceiving." I stand up and begin to walk back towards the dojo, dropping my water bottle in the trash can near the door. All I can think of is my cousin. Miyako may not be the child of the prophecy, but what I've seen worries me. A powerful trainer descended from both the Hiroshi ad Kuroki clans. There are several possible outcomes, as with anything, and Miyako...if she does manage to win the battle...then the world...

And there's the question of the others. I always see the same people in my visions. Kazumi. Miyako. A boy with strawberry blonde hair. A ginger with a cap that looks reminiscent of a certain trainer. A young man with cracked glasses. A brunette with an insane amount of hair. A green-haired boy with blue eyes. An unconscious girl wearing an extremely tight skirt. A girl who radiates no aura. A man with a strange eyepiece. A woman with white hair. An extremely...purple young man. Sometimes they all die, sometimes none do. Sometimes the tower is destroyed, and sometimes Unova is. One of those is my destiny. I just have to find out which one. But there is also the worst one of all, which I fear may be the true ending.

_Miyako...don't die. Without you, I won't be able to reach my true potential._


	7. Chapter 7: Monochrome Meetings

**Author's Note: This isn't a repeat of last chapter. Orron is a regular narrator as of now, because I said so. No, the narrator switches aren't really going to follow a pattern. **

* * *

Chapter 7: Monochrome Hatred

_Orron_

"Go! Poké ball!" I throw a poké ball at the Lillipup. It snaps into place and drops to the ground. It twitches. Once. Twice. Three times. Click.

"Wow! Thanks, Orron! I can't believe you caught it for me!"

"'s not a problem, Bianca. Glad to help you in your time of need."

"Wow, you make catching pokémon look so easy!"

"It's gonna be that easy for you, too. Just because you used up all your poké balls without catching the pokémon this time, that doesn't mean you can't catch powerful pokémon in one try later on. It's really a matter of impressing it enough." Hilda is on her hands and knees, searching through the grass for her pokédex, which she dropped.

"Hilda's right, Bianca. It took Steven Stone twenty-five dusk balls, ten poké balls, and six ultra balls to catch his first Aron, and look at him now." Sammich wades through the grass and puts a reassuring hand on Bianca's shoulder.

"You mean I could be like Steven Stone?"

"Are you kidding? Steven Stone? What a pushover. You'll be so much better than that guy. Champion of Hoenn? You'll be champion of the world!" Even Cheren's decided to help reassure Bianca, carefully walking over to her through the grass while taking care not to get grass stains on his carefully pressed jeans.

"I don't now about that! There are really tough trainers out there, like Cynthia, Lance, Gary Oak, Alder, and even Miyako. I could never stand up to anyone that amazing."

I feel a surge of anger. Before I can think better of it, I slap Bianca across the face. Her hat flies off of her head and she utters a small yelp in shock . Sammich dives to catch her hat as she topples over into the grass with tears streaming from her face.

"What the hell was that for, Orron?" Hilda seems to have forgotten about her lost pokédex at least enough to jump up and grab onto my coat. "What'd she do wrong? Should I beat you up, or are you going to apologize to Bianca?"

Suddenly, I realize what I've done. I get down on the ground as fast as I can and try to help Bianca up. Her front is covered in grass stains.

"Bianca, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. I guess I just lost it."

"Why, though?" asked Cheren, who had finally made it over, still grass-stain-less. "She didn't say anything particularly offensive."

"Yes, she did." I turn to Bianca. "Please, promise me you'll never call Miyako amazing again!"

Bianca blinks. "What?"

"No way? This is all because you're jealous over a loss? Ugh. Grow up, Orron. I hate her, too, but the fact stands-she beat you fair and square!"

"No, not really. Miyako has a license to practice pokémon in at least Sinnoh as well as Unova, and to make things worse she received a unique starter. You need to be a special snowflake for that. She also outlevels Orron a good bit. She didn't use any strategy to beat him, just spammed her moves. We can't make any judgements about her skill as a trainer, but we can assert with certainty that she's a bitch."

"Wow, Cheren. You feel strongly about this, I gather."

"Well, yeah, I do. To be honest, Miyako's attitude pisses me off."

"I second that. Now where's my pokédex?"

"Over here," mumbles Sammich weakly as he holds it up, face still firmly implanted in the grass.

"Thanks!"

"I don't know. Don't you guys think you're being a little mean to Miyako?"

"Bianca, she called me a stupid bitch the other day after I slightly mispronounced her sword's name. Well _excuse me_ for not being fluent in Johtonese, Pokémon Trainer Bitchninja."

"I think she's evil."

"What?" Everyone looks at me like I'm insane, and I guess it would be a fair assumption. I think I'm insane, to be honest, basing what I accuse a person of on what I saw in a dream. But the fact stands, it was so creepy.

I've had the dream a couple of times. Every time I was standing in Miyako's room. She wasn't wearing that huge coat of hers, and her hair was brushed over her shoulders to the front. That wasn't the weird part. The weird part was the back of her neck-specifically, the fact that it was all scar tissue.

She turned around, and for the first time ever her face was completely exposed. The entire right side of her face was covered in burns, and her right eye was light and cloudy. The skin on her face was red and black, with scars making what looked like a bad grid drawn in M S Paint on her cheek.

When she talked, her voice sounded like a billion voices simulanteously. "You see, Orron? This is the price of becoming a god."

It was the creepiest nightmare I'd ever had, but it feels like one of those dreams that has grounding in reality. Maybe it's just because I've never seen the right side of her face, but those burns have always felt like they're actually there.

"I don't think so. She's not evil, just misunderstood."

"What?" Cheren looks shocked. "Sammich, she's always been mean to you! How can you possibly say that?"

"Well, I'm very lucky." Sammich seems very mixed, but he continues talking. "I may not have had the best of luck, but my life's still been pretty cool because I've always had you guys. I've had Nora to take care of me, the Professor to teach me stuff, Cheren to correct me and make passive-aggressive remarks, Hilda to help me pick out hats, Bianca to help me when I'm sad, and Orron to talk about pokémon with. Maybe Miyako's just never had anything like that."

Cheren stares at Sammich. Hilda facepalms. I'm the first to answer.

"A person's past can never excuse their actions. I don't care if Miyako got dismembered and brought back to life, she has no excuse to act like a bitch"

"You're right." Bianca seems to have finished brushing herself off. She's still extremely green. "I should never have called her amazing. One of you is going to be the champion one day, I'm sure. I'll help any of you along your way-Cheren, Sammich, Orron, Hilda, if you ever want my help, just tell me. But I think that we should promise to make sure Miyako never becomes champion."

"I'm in." I take her hand.

Cheren steps forward and puts his hand on top of ours. "Yeah. Me to."

Hilda's the next one to put her hand in. "Of course. Sammich?"

Sammich looks genuinely confused. He looks from me, to Hilda, to Bianca, to Cheren, before finally adding his hand to the group. "I guess...if you really think so."

We stand there for something close to a full minute before dropping our hands and moving silently the rest of the way to Accumula Town.

* * *

The first thing that stands out to me about Accumula is the size. Most cities in Unova are quite a bit larger than Accumula, supposedly, but I just can't imagine how that's possible. Accumula dwarfs Nuvema by comparison-I think I could fit out entire town into their town square.

"Hey, guys! Great to see you're all finally here!" Professor Juniper runs up to us. "Let me take you on a wonderful journey! Let's tour the Pokémon Center!"

"I already know my away around Pokémon Centers, Professor Juniper," replies Cheren matter-of-factly. She stares at him with a mixture of rage, irritation, and revulsion.

"Well, I didn't ask for your opinion, did I, Cheren?" Her tone changes to a cheerful one out of nowhere. "Now, come on!"

She grabs Sammich and Bianca, the two people closest to her, and drags them into the Center after her. Me, Cheren and Hilda exchange looks, then follow her in.

"This is the nurse! She'll heal your pokémon for free!" Professor Juniper says this like it's the greatest thing in the world.

"Not necessarily, kiddo. Don't pay your trainer fees and we start charging. You'll have to pay quite expensively out of pocket," mutters the nurse.

Bianca turns completely white. "You mean our trainer fees are just-"

"Health insurance? Yes. Don't you remember? We went over this in school."

"S-sorry, Cheren! I just forget stuff."

"That's not a problem. It's really cute!" says Hilda, enthusiastically wrapping her arm around Bianca's arm.

"Moving on, over here's the PC, which can store up to whatever eighteen times thirty is pokémon!"

"540," mutters Cheren under his breath.

"What's that? It says 'Someone's PC'. You mean someone else is always taking care of our pokémon?" asks Bianca, squinting at the screen.

"No, not quite, Bianca. It's not quite that black and white."

"Who is that someone?"

"You'll find out one day, I'm sure. Either way, here's the Poké Mart. They sell everything you could ever need, assuming you have the proper qualifications!"

"Qualifications?"

"_Badges, _Bianca. Badges."

"Oh. Okay."

We go outside. Thank goodness. Ugh. I really wish life came with a non-noob button.

"Okay, so I have something to ask you. Other than Cheren, would any of you be interested in seeing an interview with a famous intellectual?"

"No. Come on, Bee. We're gonna shop for potions. Or poké balls. Or both. Potion balls. Whatever." Hilda turns around and heads towards the Pokémon Center. Bianca turns around, hastily bows, and follows her.

"Okay, that's that. Cheren?"

"Who is the interview with?"

"Smart question. It's with Ghetsis Muinomrah, the leader of Team Plasma. You know, that pokémon rights organization?"

"No thanks. I'm out. Peace." I turn around to leave.

"He's talking about his experiences as a pokémon trainer." Well, that sure caught my attention.

"Okay. Fine. Sammich? Are you okay?" He's staring into the distance, looking strangely worried.

"Yeah. It's nothing."

Cheren adjusts his glasses yet again. "Are you sure? You look worried."

"It's just...can you hear that sound?"

I listen. The sounds of piano and drums come from a nearby house. People are chatting as they walk down the street. A pokémon is screaming, probably in a battle.

"I'll be right back." Sammich runs behind the Pokémon Center. Cheren and I look at each other before wordlessly heading to the lecture hall.

* * *

**Author's Note: Two Perspectives, one chapter. This is gonna suck.**

_Sammich_

"Help me! Help me!" I hear the pathetic cries loud and clear.

Sammich? Are you okay?" Cheren looks worried, as if I'm doing something weird. I don't get it. Being distressed by helpless screams shouldn't be weird. Maybe I'm hallucinating. Yeah, probably am.

"Yeah. It's nothing."

Cheren adjusts his glasses yet again. "Are you sure? You look worried."

No. I'm not sure. I haven't been sure about anything since Miyako pulled a Houndoom and my Totodile started talking-or rather, I started talking to it. Or something. I don't know what's happening. I honestly hope I've been making the whole thing up.

"Help! It hurts!" The voice again. No, I definitely wasn't hallucinating. It sounds like it's coming from behind the Pokémon Center.

"It's just...can you hear that sound?" Maybe they can hear it, too! Maybe we can all go help the poor pokémon together!

The sounds of people chatting are loud, as are the sounds of drums and piano coming from a nearby house, but I can barely even hear them over the sound of the creature's painful screams. I've never wanted to fit into the status quo before, but now I just wish that I couldn't talk to pokémon, or, even better, that they all could.

"I'll be right back." Without even looking at them, I turn and run behind the Pokémon Center.

For a place seems so nice and welcoming from the front, the back of the Pokémon Center sure is scary. Water is dripping from the gutters of the large orange building, leaving the entire area damp. Pipes are sticking out from the concrete black wall-I have to carefully step over every one to move forward. The paint on the back of the center is more of a light yellow than orange, and there are loose wires everywhere. One of them emits a spark as I step up to the poor young pokémon tied to the back of the building.

"...Dan? Are you back?" it asks hopefully, and dares to sneak a glimpse up. "No, you're not Dan."

"Who's Dan?"

"He's my friend. He just got me from a professor in Hoenn a week ago. I haven't won any battles yet, but it's okay! Dan is going to make me stronger! I'm sure a great trainer like him can save even a basket case like me. Are you his friend? Can you tell me when he's coming to get me?"

I look at the poor creature in shock. "Um...okay, red...bird...thing,"

"Torchic."

"Torchic, Dan's not coming back."

"What do you mean?" Torchic looks shocked. "Is he going to have you bring me to him? Why?"

"Dan doesn't want you."

"What?" Torchic starts doing something that reminds me of crying a little bit. "You mean he-"

"Yeah." I'm almost crying myself. How could someone do something like that to someone like Torchic? Torchic clearly just wants to do well for his trainer-how could they abandon him?

"You know, you could always come with me."

Torchic looks up at me. "W-what? You really mean it?"

"Yeah. Listen, Torchic-can I call you Torc?"

"Sure."

"Okay then. I'm Sammich, and this is my partner, Marty." I release Marty from his poké ball.

"Whoa...what? Why is that pokémon tied to a pole?" Marty reaches forwards and uses Scratch on the ropes, releasing Torc from the wall. He runs into my arms.

"Welcome to the team, Torc."

"Good 'ta have you." Marty does the thing where he thumbs up again. Still don't know how he does it.

"So, I see you can talk to pokémon. Well, you're certainly not very good at it. I mean, how inexperienced can you get? You confuse the dialects inside of your head, making no distinction between them, and talk to pokémon in their own dialect, despite the fact that you should be capable of exerting enough self-control to talk to them in your own speech, which they should have been more than capable of understanding. It's almost sad, really." I turn around to see a kid about one, two years older than me tops. I know that there are a lot of things I could think about, like the fact that he could understand what was going on or how impossibly fast he was talking, but the first thing I think is_Damn, that guy's ponytail cannot be natural._

"Who are you?" I manage to choke out, getting out a poké ball and returning Marty to his.

"Merely a trainer like you, and likewise gifted. My name is N, and your name, as I overheard it, is Sammich, isn't it?"

"Yeah. My name's Sammich Volcaronus Watts."

"Watts?" He seems taken aback. "Could your parents possibly be-"

"I don't like to talk about it. Do you have a real name, N?"

"What are you talking about?" He tilts his head to the side. "N _is _my real name, as far as you know."

I tap Torc with the poké ball, catching him. This N guy is probably a psycho or something. I don't want him near my pokémon.

"Who are you, N?"

"I'm a trainer like you. I would offer to fight you, Sammich, but my partners stay with me one battle only, and my only pokémon recently defeated a girl with a Houndour, so I felt obligated to release her."

"You beat Miyako?"

"Yes, I did, although she should have been more than a match for me based on levels. She simply lacks the empathy to connect with her pokémon. She'll be fine against normal trainers, of course, but against trainers with higher levels, keiyaku-sha, and any other equally experienced trainers she's lacking. Shame, too-if not for that, she could probably challenge Lenora at her current level."

"So you beat her with...empathy?"

"Yes, Sammich. I connect with my pokémon on a much deeper level, while she sees them as stepping stones, used to achieve a higher purpose. That is why I can win. You, Sammich, are well on your way to doing the same."

"You really think so."

"Yes. Why else would you be chosen by a legendary?"

"Chosen...by a legendary?"

"Sorry. Said too much. You'll find out in due time. Good day, Sammich." He turns around and walks away. The last thing I notice is the little charm on his belt swinging gently as he walks.

"Who was that guy?" I breathe out slowly.

"No idea," I hear an unfamiliar voice say from behind me.

* * *

_Orron_

After an hour or so, I can confidently say that Cheren is a dirty liar. This Ghetsis guy has said nothing remotely interesting up until now, and his hair and eyepiece are just tacky, not to mention that they look awful with his suit. To be honest, I've begun to fall asleep when I'm jolted awake by Cheren.

"What is it?" I ask groggily. He puts a finger on his lips and points to the stage.

Ghetsis was previously talking in that monotonous way that people call 'professional', but now he's practically screaming. It takes me a minute to figure out what he's saying.

"We humans have been oppressing pokémon for far too long! We would not confine our children to poké balls, and we cannot confine pokémon to them either! You may think that the partnership is equal, but we are oppressors! We must acknowledge that, and once we are no longer ignorant we must act with our newfound knowledge. We must liberate our pokémon! Thank you Accumula!"

Ghetsis turns around and begins to pack away his paperwork. The crowd slowly trickles out until only me and Cheren are left. "Aren't you going to leave?"

"No. I was going to ask him a question." Cheren begins to walk towards the stage. I follow him, sighing audibly. I don't get why he would ever find a grade-A nutjob like that entertaining.

"Um, excuse me, what do you think of pokémon ra-"

He is cut off by a voice that is all too familiar. The cold monotone, which I have never heard above a speaking voice before, is shouting loudly and clearly.

"Stop right there, Ghetsis! I challenge you to a battle!"

* * *

**Author's Note (again): Cheren (before he was so rudely interrupted) was going to ask what he thought of pokémon rangers, in case anyone was wondering.**


	8. Chapter 8: Monochrome Defeat

**Author's Note: This takes place a little bit before the previous two chapters. Also, it occurs to me that Miyako hasn't narrated since chapter four.**

* * *

_Miyako_

_I can't believe it. This isn't happening. But it must be-because I can remember it. I can relive the events over and over again. I wish I couldn't. I wish it could just end._

_The boy-the one with the green hair-he said that I couldn't understand my pokémon. He could. He was a keiyaku-sha. I know he was. How else could he talk to his pokémon? It wasn't what Sammich was doing, either-he talked to them the same way he talked to me, but he could understand what they were saying, every word of it._

_He won. A low-leveled Purrloin was enough to take out Anubis._

_How pathetic of me. I should have been able to beat him easily. Why did I lose?_

_But what he said...about me not being able to hear pokémon's voices...he was right. Why can't I hear their voices? Why?_

"I dunno. You tell me."

"Shut up, Mika." She's back again. I have no idea why, but somehow I have a feeling she's not going to try anything in the crowded town square.

"You know, you could crush him. Easily. You have the potential to destroy his very mind. Or rather, I have the potential to do that."

"No. I'm not going to."

"Are you sure? One simple choice, a promise, and all that power-all of it-could be yours."

"Yes. And I'm not going to take that power. I know the price." The cost of such an oath is far too steep for me to ever agree to.

"Are you sure, Miyako? Keiyaku-sha are exceedingly rare-you may want to take this opportunity."

"Mommy? That girl's talking to herself. Why is she doing that?" I look down to see a little girl point at me. Her mother pulls her away by her arm.

"Don't worry about it, Haley. She's just crazy."

"Uh, should we continue this conversation is a more private place?"

"No. This conversation is over." I stand up and head to the Pokémon Center.

"Hello, and welcome to the Pokémon Center, where we heal your pokémon to perfect health with a smile!"

"I'm aware of what you do. Just heal this pokémon." I hand her Anubis' poké ball.

"Well, that's a bit rude. Whatever. It'll be healed in five to ten minutes, hon. Sit down wherever. Or don't. I really don't care." She hands the ball to a nearby Audino, who walks into a room to the right of the counter.

I go to sit down at a table as far away from the counter and the nurse as I can. Five to ten minutes. How annoying. I thought these people were supposed to be professionals.

"Are you _sure_? Covenants come with some amazing benefits!" Mika is smiling, like usual.

"No. Go away," I mutter, hopefully quietly enough for no one to overhear.

She makes that stupid pouty face that she always does when I turn her down. Holy Arceus do I hate her. "Well, you're being rather stupid. Ah, well. I guess I'll give you time to decide. Could be fun. So what'cha reading?" I'd taken a book out of my bag and begun reading it while she was talking.

"_Memoirs of a Kimono Girl_. It's about a girl from Cianwood City sixty or so years ago who was sold to a Kimono Theater by her father after her mother's death, and her life as one of the most successful Kimono Girls in Ecruteak's history. Completely fictional characters, but with actual historical basis."

"Ugh." She leans on her arm, looking bored. "Can't you just ask one of your cousins or something if you want to know about Kimono Girls?"

"I guess. Wait, how'd you know I'm related to them?"

"Although you're not really the Kimono Girl type-not graceful at all, certainly not as cultured as it would require, and somewhat antisocial, not to mention your...less-than-flawless appearance, I'd say you'd make a terrible Kimono Girl. The thing is, I still know about your family. You see, I know everything about you, Miyako." She leans in as though she's going to tell me a secret, which, when you think about it, is completely useless considering no one can hear her or see her anyway. "It's a part of the job, you know."

"Yeah. Sure."

"You don't like me, do you?"

"No, really? What clued you off, the fact that I tell you to shut up every time you start talking to me? Goddamn nightmare demon."

She frowns. "You really think of me that way, Miyako? A nightmare demon? You know, I didn't chose my fate."

"Yeah. Neither did I."

Neither of us talk for a while. I try to read my book, but all I can think about is that I lost to a trainer who, all things considered, shouldn't even have been a challenge.

Another nurse who looks exactly like the one currently at the counter goes up to the one already there. I can't help but listen in on their conversation.

"-so all of the pokémon that you took have been given back to their trainers, right?"

"Yeah. So you'll take over, right?"

"Yeah. Just take one last look. If there's any pokémon left that aren't fully healed yet, please stay and let your Audino finish her work before you leave, or, if they're healed, give them to their trainers."

"I've given all the pokémon back to their trainers."

"What's she talking about?" asks Mika, "She hasn't given you Anubis yet."

"I don't know what she's talking about, but I intend to find out." I wait until the nurse walks up to the door, then step in front of her.

"What is it, kid? Scram. My shift's over, so I wanna go home and watch some rom-coms."

"It's just that you haven't given me my Houndour back. If you could do that I'd really appreciate it."

"What Houndour?" She looks at me like I'm the one who's crazy. "You never gave me a pokémon."

"No." I see a middle-aged man stand up and walk over to me. "She definitely gave you a pokémon."

"Yeah! I saw that too!"

"Same. That nurse is lying!"

"Yeah! Get her!" It's that girl from earlier. Her mother is pulling her away from me, but she keeps trying to join the action.

"Joy? Do you have something to tell me?" The other nurse walks up to her with a stern look on her face and her arms crossed, looking rather menacing for a nurse.

"Au...dino." The Audino tries to walk out the door. I didn't notice it before, but it's walking really weirdly. Almost as if-

"You're not going anywhere!" The nurse leaps onto the Audio. Its head pops off, revealing a red head with these intense blue eyes.

"Ow. I mean Audino. With a question mark."

Everyone stares at the nurse. "Joy, what's the meaning of this?" asks her co-worker.

The nurse pulls off her wig, revealing that she also has red hair. She then pulls out a gun as she peels the skin on her face right off, revealing a face nearly identical to her compatriot's. "Don't try anything, Joy. All of you stay perfectly still and then maybe, just maybe, no one gets shot."

"Ooh, drama." Mika floats a couple feet off the ground. Clearly she has no plans to interfere.

"No! Give the crazy girl her pokémon back!" Haley runs towards the woman and punches her in the stomach. There's a bang and a loud scream, and she's lying on the ground bleeding profusely from her head. Her mom screams as she rushes to her child. There's another bang, and she's dead too. Human lives, ended in an instant. What has this world come to?

"Well? Are you going to attack her or not? Huh? You know, I could just drop her into a Dark Void if you were a little more willing to cooperate."

"May I propose an alternative strategy?" I run up to the woman and kick her gun into the air. Her face relays an expression of pure shock.

The gun flies over both of our heads. I reach up, catch it, and point it at her. "Who do you work for?"

"You'll never get it out of me!"

"Are you sure about that?" I put the gun to her head. "I'll give you until the count of three."

"One..."

"No!"

"Two..."

"Okay, fine! I'll tell you."

Mika smiles. "Hm. I genuinely want to see where this'll go." I resist the urge to try and smack her.

"I'm from...Plasma."

* * *

_Orron_

"Stop right there, Ghetsis! I challenge you to a battle!"

"What? Miyako?" Cheren turns around. His glasses look like they're about to fall off. He's angry, I can tell-probably pissed that Miyako's ruining his chances of getting an autograph or something. Honestly, I can't tell how anyone finds that entertaining.

"You? Battle me? Sorry, kid. I don't have time for this."

"Get him, Anubis." Her Houndour-Anubis, I guess-runs out from behind her and leaps at Ghetsis with a loud wail, mouth brimming with fire.

"Ugh, how annoying. Destroy her." He tosses a poké ball into the air weakly, as if he can't be bothered to put any effort into the throw. The thing that comes out is the single most terrifying pokémon I've ever seen.

"Hy...drei...gon!"

I can tell Miyako's terrified, but she's not about to back down. "Use Dark Pulse!" Dark energy gathers in Anubis' mouth as he leaps at the hydreigon.

"Dragon pulse." The attack shoots out, a purple beam of light knocking Anubis out of the air and throwing it against the wall, knocked out cold. The beam continues on its path. Quickly I look over at Miyako. She's terrified, but she somehow manages to draw that katana that she carries with her for some reason-ugh, crazy Sinnohans-and intercept the beam.

"What? How?" Ghetsis seems shocked to say the least.

Miyako smiles. "Surprise, bitch. Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me."

"H-how did you do that?" asks Cheren with a stunned expression on his face, his glasses dropping clean off his nose.

"Just a little thing called Aura. Ever heard of it?"

"I don't see any Aura," I point out.

"Look at the sword." Indeed, it does have a faint red glow to it.

"Wow, that's cool! So as long as you have the sword you're, like, invinc-"

I'm cut off by Miyako's sword, which apparently decided it had had enough and decided to shatter. The beam continues right through it. Miyako screams in fear and shock as the beam tosses her against the wall, clearly unconscious.

Cheren and I look at each other, then at Ghetsis, who begins to scratch the back of his head. "Eh, sorry 'bout that. I had no idea she was just a beginning trainer, otherwise I wouldn't have used Hydreigon."

"I'm sure she'll be fine," says Cheren nonchalantly.

"Uh, Cheren, you may want to get her to the hospital."

"Why me? You're the strong one."

"Ugh. Fine." I grab Miyako's arm and begin to drag her along the floor.

"Well, if you're going to do it like that..." Cheren slings her over his shoulder, and buckles under her weight. I sigh, grab Anubis, and hold the door open for Cheren, who's wincing in pain.

* * *

"How is she?" I ask Cheren as he emerges from the hotel. His glasses are at a slant and his hair is disheveled, which seems to be pissing him off just a tiny bit.

"She's fine."

"Conscious?" I ask.

"Yeah."

"What did she say?"

"Something about the Pokémon Center getting robbed. I think she's a bit concussed."

I sigh. How could a person be that stupid? It's almost like she's got something to prove.

"Hey, guys! Where's Miyako?" Sammich runs right into Cheren at top speed, sending him flying into the door. He crumples to the floor with a loud 'ow' and a painful thud.

"Why do you ask?"

Sammich looks down at the ground. I can tell something's eating him. "Well...I needed to ask her something."


	9. Chapter 9: Monochrome Powers

_Sammich_

"Miyako...what's going on?"

She sits up in bed slightly. "What do you mean?"

"There's a purple guy following me."

She sits up, shocked. "Oh. Did he tell you his name?"

"He said he was named Fred," I tell her.

"Anything else?"

"He said I was an old friend. And that I had...the brand or something? And something about a covenant? Miyako, please tell me that you know what's going on!"

She sighs. "I was afraid of that. Sammich...did your parents ever say anything about any...powers? Before they died, I mean."

I look at her. I've always thought there was something off about Miyako, but this... "Powers? No, nothing."

She looks away, seeming rather awkward. "That's unfortunate. By the way, do you know why he'd call himself Fred?"

"Does it have to mean something?"

"Names mean something. It's in the job description."

"Not true. Just look at my name. I'm named Sammich because my dad was eating a sandwich while they were naming me. He had his mouth full and he whispered 'wow, this sandwich is really good' to my mom, but all they heard was Sammich, and they never bothered to change it." I look down. "They were insane, you know. They never cared about me, at least not with their jobs. And the first time I was ever going to see them, I showed up and they were dead."

"I'm sorry," she says, her voice as stoic as ever.

"It's okay. It was years ago, and besides, if I never even met them how was I supposed to love them?"

"But you did, didn't you?"

I sigh. "Yeah. I did."

We sit in silence for a while. I was hoping to get answers, but so far all Miyako's done is open up old wounds.

"It makes sense that they were insane. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, you know."

I look up at her. "What absolute power?"

She sighs and places her head in her hands. "I suppose...this is rather hard to explain, but I suppose I can try. Have you heard of Keiyaku-sha? Even legendaries in general?"

"Keiyaku-what?"

"Your pronunciation is atrocious. Either way, there are gods who govern our world-legendaries."

"Like Arceus?"

"Yes, exactly. Arceus is possibly the most important of them, as He was the one who created the universe and the Pantheons of Creation, which are located in a sub-dimension called the Hall of Origin, which is presumably located atop Mount Coronet in Sinnoh. Many have attempted to reach the hall, but none have succeeded.

Humans and legendaries very rarely interact. Despite technically being pokémon, legendaries are far above being used against others. They are far more suited to physical combat. The fact is, even if two trainers with legendaries meet, the legendaries will not meet in battle, for fear of destroying the very fabric of our reality."

"Fabric of our reality? You mean that it's that fragile?"

"Yes," she says quietly, and reaches her arm out to the side. First her fingers vanish, then her hand, then her arm all the way up to her elbow, as though she's sinking her arm into a pool of water. When she pulls it back, she's grasping a red thread. "This is one of the many threads that make up me. A more common term for these threads is 'aura'."

"So that's what you were doing with your sword...Orron said it glowed red and stopped that hydreigon's dragon pulse..."

"Yes. That's a powerful hydreigon, though-it ripped through reality itself. Humans' aura regenerates, of course, but I'll be weak for a couple days."

"And people use this...in martial arts?"

"Yes. It's a complex art, and it takes talent. I, of course, lack said talent. But either way, back to legendaries.

When a human and a legendary form a covenant, it's not like a typical trainer/pokémon relationship. Although it gives almost no advantages in pokémon battles, it gives much more useful abilities-causing earthquakes, raining fire from the heavens-depends on the person, really.

To claim these abilities, one must form a covenant. The legendary is from then on called a Patron, and the human a Hero. For gaining these powers in life, they must serve their Patron from the moment they die."

"Serve? What do you mean?"

"I don't...know." She looks down sadly. "It's a complex subject, really. Either way, it is nearly impossible for humans to merge with legendaries. Even with a focus-um, a focus is an object that you channel your Patron's energy with. Mine is my sword. Of course, it's broken, but I'm sure there's somewhere I can get it reforged, and even a broken blade can make an adequate focus. Well, as I was saying, even with a focus you'd probably burst into flame. Of course there are people who can use these powers due to augmented spiritual capacity."

"Keiyaku-sha?"

"Yes, exactly. They don't know how common Keiyaku-sha are, but rest assured that they are rare. They can barely be classified as humans, and it often runs in families. The main premise is that a Keiyaku-sha has a spiritual connection to pokémon-being capable of talking to them and the like-and is capable of forming a covenant without...uh, spontaneously combusting. Or exploding. Or vaporizing. The method of death really depends.

Of course, for a Keiyaku-sha to become a Hero, they must first obtain a focus and a brand. The focus has to have been properly crafted to be effective-a normal stick that you pick off the ground wouldn't work. Mine is my sword, which is specially crafted to channel legendaries' energy."

"So your sword is rare and special?"

"Arceus, no! There are several thousand of these in existence, and mine is one of the worst made out there."

"So you're above average...but among those above average you're sub-par?"

"Exactly. Good to see that you get it."

"And you said something about a brand?"

"Oh, yeah. When a legendary chooses to become a Keiyaku-sha's Patron the subject is branded with their mark. Depending on spiritual capacity, a person may survive several brands, but it's uncommon to survive more than three."

"And you think that I'm a Keiyaku-sha?"

"Yes, almost definitely. What you were doing, after I left, I overheard you...ahem...doing a Totodile impression."

I blush. "Yeah. So, you could tell that I can understand Marty?"

She looks at the ceiling. "I had my suspicions."

"And are you one, too?"

All of a sudden, it's like she's a different person. Or rather, she _was _a different person. She rarely talked to me at all before today-almost as if she was trying to avoid me-and when she did, she was angry and rude. But then I asked her about Fred, and all of a sudden, she seemed..I don't know how to describe it. Nicer, I guess? But now she seems to be back to her old self. "No comment. Leave me be, please."

I sigh, sensing that I'm not going to get anything out of her. I stand up and walk silently out the door.

* * *

**Author's Note: I just wanted to explore the powers of the legendaries a bit more. Also, you gain backstory on Sammich's name. His parents are going to be a recurring thing, trust me.**


	10. Extremely Colorful Update

HEEEEY guys.

I really hate to say this, but I'm going to discontinue Clashing Legends. Okay, it's more of an indefinite hiatus, but still. Between my new job and beta-reading people's stories and my novel I simply don't have the time or energy to continue this story.

So yeah, it'll be deleted within the week, and I probably won't post anything for a while. When I do it may or may not be this, rewritten. We shall see.

So, sorry if you liked it or anything. It'll probably be rewritten by mid-2015 or something, I just have so many things that take priority over this that it's unbelievable. So yeah, I'm sorry.

It's been a good run. Thank you so much for all of your support. It's been awesome having people actually see some of my work. Hopefully I'll be able to rewrite this at some point in the future. So, uh, bye for now!


End file.
